Let Me Fall
by LilCassandra
Summary: Quidam-verse. Years after Zoe returns from the world of Quidam, her entire life falls apart. When old friends return to take her back to their world, will she find the love and acceptance she's always wanted?
1. Waiting for Courage

**Author's Note: This is based on Cirque du Soleil's _Quidam. _Since some people are squeamish about Zoe's age, I'm assuring everyone she IS eighteen in this piece. As always, thanks to my absolutely wonderful beta Katherine, without which this wouldn't be possible.**

Zoe tapped the windowpane of her bedroom, breathing onto it and writing in the fog as she had always done as a child. She turned to look at her door, hoping for a visitor, but instead just heard her father and stepmother arguing. They never stopped nowadays, it seemed, mostly about her. Zoe knew her stepmother hated that father put her first, and it was something she would use to find a fault in every single thing the girl did

"She lives in a world of fantasy and you're just too blind to see it!" she would scream.

Her father would come up with some excuse, and at first Zoe thought he was trying to make sure his wife never found out about Quidam's realm. But as time continued, it was apparent he didn't remember the escapade at all.

_And if he had, mother would still be alive_, Zoe thought to herself.

Almost six years after the events had transpired, Zoë's world had changed drastically. Her outlook had reverted back to that of her twelve-year old self, and she took for granted everything around her. Yes, things had momentarily improved and stayed that way for about her year. Her parents were in love again, holding hands like teenagers, showing true affection for one another. Zoe had never seen mother so happy or her father so devoted to both his girls. She would give anything to go back to that.

Eventually, her father reverted back into his work. Some crisis had happened, she never really knew what, and it was like a switch went off. He would make mysterious phone calls as she watched hiding on the flight of steps to the second floor of their home, but always hung up when mother as around. It was years later, looking back from her own failed romantic encounters, that she realized he was having an affair. The passion he had learned to appreciate mother with was not merely focused at her, and being a greedy man by nature it had radiated out to others. Zoe kept praying her mother would never find out.

Her suicide was proof enough that she had known. At her funeral, Zoe swore she could imagine her mother wrapped in red silk, hanging like the woman in Quidam had done after she had dropped her mother's dress to the floor. She had never understood the metaphor until this moment. At least she was young, but father was old enough to know what the sign meant, and it was he that had dragged her off in the dream world as she had struggled to hold onto the fabric. How much was real and how much was fantasy? It was Zoe that had found her mother hanging in the bathroom, so maybe more was real than she had wanted to think.

Father may not have loved mother, but he loved her, and he had tried his hardest to make sure Zoe was alright after it all happened. It was the guilt that cut the deepest, even more than the pain of losing her, and years of counseling still couldn't erase from her mind that it was all just so avoidable. He remarried six weeks later to the one with which he had an affair, but still he tried to put her first, and she loved him for that. It was Zoe that was always first in his heart, Zoe that was kissed first when she got home. Playing second fiddle to a child couldn't have been easy for stepmother, but why did she have to be so cruel about it all?

The fights between the two girls didn't break out until Zoe was a teenager, which only fueled the woman's idea that Zoe was simply a rebellious troublemaker, but when they did come about they tore the precarious family into pieces. The few times she had asked him why he was with her at all, he simply told her that a father couldn't raise a daughter alone. The guilt of being the cause of his marriage, added to the suicide, was what drove Zoe to cutting to let out the pain. The deep red gash she had created with father's razor would always be on her ankle. Zoe was back as she was as a small girl, bored, unloved, and truly believing she had seen all there was to be seen.

_At least the pain is some kind of change_, she thought.

She shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs of memories and went to her closet. Tucked in the back were her father's old white shoes. Stepmother had thrown them away, but she had carefully fished them out of the garbage and stashed them. It was silly, but they were a reminder, as was the faded yellow jacked she had carefully folded near it. She touched the shoes lovingly then grabbed the jacket, slipping it on. Too big for her when she had journeyed to the other world, it was just her size now, and she snuggled into it. Curling into a ball on her bed, she thought back to those last moments, when she had decided to give Quidam his hat back.

_Your world is yours, not mine, Quidam. Your dreams are yours. You may have touched the stars but they weren't moved. And if you reach for me, I may not choose to hold your hand. I might smile or I might turn away..._

How silly those words seemed now, all this time later, when she would give anything to go back. She missed Target with her whole heart, telling herself she could still smell him on her jacket. The shoes had brought memories of John, too, and thinking of her old companions was enough to move her into tears. She rolled up her left jacket sleeve and looked at the dozens of scars on her arm, most of them razor straight, many faded over time but just as many bright and red from more recent times.

Zoe pulled out her razor from under her pillow and looked at it, but heard her stepmother's voice outside made her freeze. Scrambling for a better hiding spot, she quietly ran to her closet and tucked the razor into the old white shoes. She only had just enough time to make it back to her bed and close her eyes before the door was violently slammed open.

"What are you doing?" she asked Zoe. The girl only shrugged, hugging her arms around her knees, so she continued. "I will not have a lazy daughter in this house."

"I'm sure she was just tired from school or…" her father tried to placate his wife, but was quickly spoken over.

"Tired from what? Daydreaming all day? You're too easy on her."

Her stepmother grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the bed, probably to yell at her some more, but Zoe had not remembered to pull down her sleeve again. The woman's sharp nails grazed the newest cuts and she winced at the pain. Time seemed to stop as stepmother dropped her arm, her father coming over and turning her wrist to look at them. She didn't move, terrified. It was father that reacted first.

Catching his wife's eyes, he asked her to leave them alone. The woman hesitated for a moment, actually showing a second's concern, before she huffed and walked out the door, slamming it behind her for good measure. Zoe went back to the bed and crawled to the farthest corner, rolling down her sleeve and trying to hide her tears.

_Why does he have to look at me like I've broken his heart all over again, _she wondered nervously.

"I need to see them."

Crawling back to him, she dangled her legs over the side of the bed and pulled up her sleeve again, exposing the scarred skin. He winced but hid it, probably to not upset her, and took her other hand into his. He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but just as quickly closed it.

Sighing, he found his words, "I know it's been difficult, but you can't do this. This isn't going to solve anything."

Through her tears, she barely managed to whisper what she had wanted to say for years, "If going to a completely different world didn't solve anything either, nothing will. This is all I've got."

Father's eyes grew hard and he left her on the bed, turning towards the door. He opened it to step out, speaking so quietly that he barely heard her, "What was years ago can't come back. It killed your mother. It won't take you from me."

She simply kicked her legs idly and refused to meet his eyes.

"I…I need to think. I don't know what to say, Zoe. Can we talk about this later tonight, when we've both calmed down?"

Hesitating, she nodded, and smiled as he pulled her into a hug. out and shut the door carefully behind him. It was only seconds after he left when she began to hear a scuffle in her closet.

_That doesn't even make sense_, she admonished herself.

Putting her ear to the closet door, she began to make out words in the whispers, the voice so familiar it was like a dream all over again.

"I know we aren't supposed to be here," whispered John. He paused, then, "You can't tell me she doesn't need us now as much as she did before. More, even."

_Is the Target here, also? Is that who John is speaking to?_ She questioned herself.

"I'm not leaving her here," he continued angrily. "The Quidam gave her hope. There's no hope left. So you can explain to him that you left her here to fling herself out a window, but I'm not letting that happen."

The door creaked open and she stepped away from it. Even after hearing him, she was in shock when she saw John and Target arguing in a corner of the closet. They both jumped out as soon as they saw the light, all three of them looking at each other for a splot second. It was like the calm in the eye of a hurricane. Zoe jumped up and down, excited, and then tackled John so hard they both fell onto the floor. She laughed and held him aas tight as she could.

"I do need to breathe, you know," he wryly commented.

She stuck her tongue out at him then jumped on Target for good measure, feeling him twirl her around as she watched the room spin. She nearly cried out of happiness, having missed them so much.

Target gently placed her on the ground as she smoothed out her orange dress, the same shade as the dress she had worn on their last encounter, and allowed him to move her to a corner as John drew the window's shades closed. She kept jumping up and down on her feet until Target picked her up again to stop her from causing a small earthquake in the room.

From the other side of the room, John whispered, "Do you trust us?"

"Do you really need to ask?" she replied.

"Then we're taking you away from here. No more tears, little one."

Zoe heard her name being screamed downstairs as they argued about her, probably about what they father had found out. She heard the woman saying she was psychotic and needed to be put away while father said he wouldn't make the same mistake as before and lose someone he loved. Knowing them, they would soon be in her room to talk about it, and their wasn't a moment to lose.

She wrapped her arms around Target's neck and watched as John started searching through her closet, reemerging with her father's white shoes. She nearly laughed as he began to put them on, but then he noticed the razor and pulled it out. Shocked, he came over to her again and gently touched her hair.

"I knew…we knew…there was trouble, but nothing like…"

The yells grew louder. At her fidgeting, Target shook her to until she kept still.

"Not a moment to lose then."

He slipped the razor into his pocket. He slipped father's shoes on and left his upon Zoe's pillow. Pulling up the shades, he opened the large window and took her from Target's arms. Looking at them both and smiling his trademark Cheshire cat grin, Target took a running leap and jumped straight out the window. Zoe nearly screamed before John covered her mouth in case of such a contingency, and then followed his hand as he pointed out. Target was nowhere to be seen.

"Now, on the count of three," he smiled at her and she nodded.

"One…"

Footsteps walked up the stairway as John took her to the window's edge.

"Two…"

Voices were right outside the door, but she shut her eyes tight to pretend she didn't notice.

"Three!"

Just as the knob turned, John leapt out, holding her tightly as he disappeared.

Behind them, the door slammed open, Zoe's father calling her name as he looked at an empty room. He ran to the open window but saw nothing, and switched on the light to find some clue as to what was going on. Turning, he found John's shoes on her pillow. His eyes opened wide as he realized just what had the first time in years, tears came to his eyes. He held the shoes close and fell on the bed, too stunned to speak, as his wife glared at him

"Should we call the police?" she asked more gently than Zoe had ever known.

"No need. They won't find her now."

In another world, surrounded by the familiar mist and darkness, Zoe opened her eyes and saw Target looking right at her, still smiling. She beamed as John whispered in her ear, "Welcome home."


	2. Atmadja

It wasn't at all like the first time Zoe had stepped into this world. Everything was quiet around her, the mist undisturbed by the faceless white creatures that had spooked her on her previous journey. Instead, she heard the faint sound of laughter in the distance, and turned to her companions for permission to search them out. At John's nod, she ran from them, finding the other children skipping rope as effortlessly as they had done before. Unable to participate, she simply sat by and laughed as they performed their stunts as if for her attention, oblivious to John and Target staring at her from behind.

"It's good to see her smile again, isn't it?" noted John to no one in particular.

They had never intended for it to go this far. They had seen Zoe's life in the other realm in dreams, beads on a string that had never really found their proper order. It had hurt them beyond belief to see what had happened to her, what she had done to herself, but dared not bring her back until she was an adult. The Quidam was very strict about allowing the children to see this world once to learn a lesson they could take with them, but he never cared if an adult was brought in. Zoe was in a precarious middle ground between the two stages, yet John knew he couldn't leave it to chance that she would survive to adulthood. Lately, the visions had become infrequent, and their increasing rarity had prompted them to act. She was strong, but they wouldn't allow her to fall on their watch, and bringing her back without overly angering the Quidam had been the extent of their planning.

Target kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting John to know his confusion at it all: _We expected a frail, dying child. We expected the Zoe we missed as our best friend, the third in a trio incomplete in her absence, and instead found an alien yet beautiful woman with only a shadow of what we missed. How can we possibly know what to do with her now?_

Zoe's laughter reached their ears, and they both smiled at it. One of the children had begun to show her how to jump the rope and a few of the simpler moves, so that she could join the game. They wanted her to feel as if she belonged and it was clearly working. She grew tired quickly, pausing to catch her breath, and they withdrew to play their games somewhere else. She returned to them, her laughter rapidly fading as she saw the pensive look on her companions' faces.

"You feel guilty, don't you?" she accused, continuing when they didn't respond. "You got me out! What else could you do?"

Turning his thoughts at John again, he silently asked: _Make her understand, John. It isn't like I can convince her to open up._

John hesitated, and then responded, "If we just knew what happened, we could help you. We only want what's best for you, as cliché as that might sound."

John motioned to Target, who carefully folded the girl into his arms. She closed her eyes and sighed, annoyance disappearing as it always did when one of them held her. Target stroked her hair gently.

Frustrated, Target hurled his thoughts at John in annoyance: _At least you can talk to her. What I would give for that!_

"I'm not some puzzle for you to fix and I don't need you sounding like my father on top of everything else!" she yelled, her eyes filling with tears of anger.

Target pulled Zoe down to the floor and back into his lap. She curled up like a lost kitten in his arms as he continued to run his fingers through her hair. John sat next to them and simply squeezed the girl's hand. They would do anything, say anything, to protect her, but they also had to accept she would only speak when ready. Until then, all they could do was make her feel safe, and they wouldn't fail at that.

"Am I going to wake up and be at home?" she sobbed so quietly John nearly missed the words.

"That's your dream world now. This is home. We aren't letting you go again. Try to calm down for us?"

At that Zoe was content, and Target continued to stroke her. John was at a loss to find some way of comforting her, eventually remembering all the songs she had sung on her last journey. Quietly reciting the nonsense, he was overjoyed to see her smile, snuggle into Target's lap tighter, and peacefully doze off. She looked so content that neither wanted to move her, and John could almost see on her face what was left of the curious child he had known six years ago. Then she squirmed and made herself more comfortable, beautiful in the moonlight, and he chided himself for the thought. She wasn't a girl any longer, and what that meant was anyone's guess.

John heard footsteps behind him and turned to find the Quidam standing there, umbrella upraised as always. Target's arms curled more protectively around Zoe as John motioned him to keep still so as not to wake her. Disentangling his hand from her grasp, he followed the creature as he kept a distance from the sleeping girl. John could sense the anger from the Quidam's stance and winced, knowing he would do anything to keep her here regardless of what the creator wanted. Putting his hands in his pocket to look more relaxed, he found the razor he had seen before, and handed it to the creature before him. The Quidam seemed to turn down to look at it, thoughtful and concerned. John could feel his nervousness slip away as he saw Zoe would not be thrown out after all.

In all his years here, the Quidam had never seen one of their prodigies come back. Theirs was a world that existed to help those in the more permanent realm, a middle ground to educate and inspire, not a place to truly exist in forever. Though he knew all this, he also knew that he had created this world to protect those entrusted to him. Fingering the razor in his hand, he could only believe it justified to bring her back for such a purpose.

Without hesitation, the Quidam handed the razor back to John, stoic in the other man's confusion. John stared for a moment in stunned shock before slipping it back into his pocket, shaking the creature's outstretched hand. It seemed they had a deal. He had no idea how long it stood for, or what it meant, but he was going to run with it.

With a slight bow to the Quidam, John walked right back to his original post, keeping a slight distance so as not to wake her. He looked to see the Target more relaxed than he had ever seen him, even with his legs pinned underneath Zoe's sleeping form. John allowed his eyes to wander over her form, trying to force himself to think of her as a child, but how could he? The jacket he remembered as almost too big for her was now tight over the figure that had naturally come with time, her hair grown out so that it reached past her shoulders. While her face had not changed, her body most certainly had, and he found himself staring at the slender curve of her legs and waist, shaking his head to chastise himself for it.

_She's beautiful, isn't she?_

John nodded, silent so as not to wake Zoe again. Hours passed, the mist lightening only slightly as the night passed. She blinked and opened her eyes, looking over to John and smiling when she caught his eyes.

"At least this time I wasn't dreaming about you two only to wake up alone in my bed!" she joked, though John looked uncomfortable at the words.

Awkwardly, Zoe stretched and straightened herself, reluctant to leave Target's lap. When she was fully awake, both men led her to a doorway similar to her bedroom. It had simply appeared in the mist, and flew open when she touched the handle. Peering inside, she found what looked like a room with walls, but when she looked back outside all that was visible was the door hanging in the air. Puzzled, she looked at John to answer the question.

"We don't need privacy, sleep, the sort of things you're used to, but we aren't stupid. This is your room now. When you want to go into it, the door will appear, its contents only available to you. We won't enter without permission and it's yours to do with what you wish."

"But what about you guys? What if I want to find anyone?"

"I'm the only one that can speak in the way you understand. Most people here communicate through gesture or thought, and eventually you'll pick up on the language. But if you want us, simply wander through the mist. Eventually, you can find anyone you're looking for. It's all a matter of perception."

It was a large idea to grasp, and neither expected her to do so right away. She nodded slowly to show some understanding, and then stepped into the empty room. Closing her eyes tightly, she thought back to the few things she missed from before, and then opened them. In an instant, she found the room decorated with a large, canopied bed, her old bookcase covered in the well worn fantasy titles she always read, and two doors to the side. Opening the closest, she found it filled with clothes and her journal from the other side, still carefully tucked into a corner as she had done there. Wandering to the other door, she opened it to find a bathroom, its contents not nearly as interesting. Walking back out to see neither John nor Target had entered, she smiled.

"I'm glad you approve, little one," winked John.

Target chided John jokingly: _She needs time to adjust. As much as I would enjoy spending some time with her, I think we had better give her space, don't you?_

"Want us to leave you alone then?"

Zoe hesitated; looking back at her room, then gave him a small nod. Target embraced her, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. Turning to give John a hug, he awkwardly accepted it, keeping his arms to himself. Her smile never wavering, she walked back into the room and quietly shut it so that it disappeared into the mist.

As soon as the door clicked, John turned to Target, exasperated. "What the hell do we do now?"


	3. Marelle

It seemed hours had passed when Zoe reawoke in her small room, for a moment almost believing she was back at her father's home. The thought scared her until she realized her whereabouts and calmed down. Looking about the room again, she went back to the closet and started to look for something better to wear than what she had been traveling in for days, but was surprised to find that none of the clothes were her own. They were beautiful, unearthly, all colors, the same sort of beautiful things she had seen others wear around her. Finding a short green strapless dress, she was reminded of the handbalancer that she had admired last time, and tossed that outfit on. A quick look in the mirror showed that it fit her perfectly, and he smiled at herself one last time before wandering out. When she shut the door behind her, once again in the mist, it simply disappeared before her eyes.

The haunting music of the Spanish webs could be heard in the distance, and though the creatures that were a part of that group had never interested her, it was still something familiar. She ran towards the noise and found them, three of the women sitting around a rope as the man above them carried a woman higher. All around them was a forest of ropes hanging limply, the women ignoring them and looking up instead. Zoe slumped onto the floor nearby, tucking her legs behind her to not completely expose herself in her dress, and whispered to nonsense to herself. The woman closest to her turned to her and smiled before looking back at the spectacle above her. Always Zoe had noticed that her voice matched the music perfectly, though she never saw where said music came from, and the inhabitants of this place seemed to enjoy it, so she allowed her voice to rise a bit higher.

Above them, the man lifted the woman closer to him as they shared a kiss. Zoe's words faltered as she focused on his beautiful the exchange was. It wasn't as if she was an innocent to romance. She had fumbled with the boys in her world before, inexpierenced and clumsy as they had been. They had nothing to compare to the grace and beauty of the man above her, of the statue-like couple she had once witnessed or the unearthly men of the Banquine. Zoe had always craved to know this sort of emotion instead, silent yet somehow more passionate than anything in the everyday world. Glancing upwards again, she saw the couple held each other closer, not even repeating the kiss, their love for each other palpable even to the girls on the floor as they smiled in recognition. Uncomfortable in its presence, she turned away and walked farther, stopping only when they were almost out of her sight. She sat again and wrapped her arms around her, unconsciously trying to recreate the feeling of adoration she was witnessing.

An almost inaudible shuffling of feet nearby startled her, and she turned to find Target staring up as enraptured as the rest of the women. He ran to join them so quickly that he didn't even notice Zoe sitting where she was. Zoe giggled to herself, remember how Target always seemed to love this particular piece. He ahd always reminded her of a bird, one flightless of course but not one that was willing to resign himself to never touching the stars. Mother had to cage him to keep him from jumping up and interrupting the rest, but now without Mother to stop him, he joined the group.

The women didn't seem to mind him joining and Zoe wondered if he had done so before. As the man slowly lowered the woman he held, he disentangled his legs from the rope and joined her on the ground. They sat with the group, her arms around him, as the other women jokingly fought over the rope. Bewildered, Zoe wondered why they all clamored for this when so many empty ropes hung near them. They had performed before as a group, only now they looked as if they wanted attention from one another instead. Target won the skirmish and bounded up the rope, moving in a blur as he climbed up it in seconds. Just like the others, he began to twist and turn, tying himself in knots before letting go and almost tumbling to the ground. The group laughed and cheered him on as he remained silent, his smile widening with each successively more difficult move.

Zoe couldn't take her eyes away from him, as beautiful as he was while he flew threw the air. She had never seen, even in her days in this world, someone with as much grace as he had. Each movement was performed flawlessly, the danger of the act only enhancing the charm he radiated through his smile. As time passed, she began to wish she could fly as they did, that Target would perhaps lift her from the ground and dance with her as the previous couple had. Frowning at herself, she shook her head to clear it of such a foolish thought. What would someone as amazing as he want with her?

With a start, she realized the unthinkable: she was beginning to feel for him. She had always loved him and John, always thought of them as her family, but this was different. This was a love that made her want to run over there and beg him to hold her as he swung with the rope. It wasn't strong, not yet, but regardless of its strength it disturbed her to see her feelings for him changing in such a way.

One of the women tossed a loop to Target, who caught it and tied it onto his wrist. Attaching it to the rope, he nodded to the man below him. As the women scattered out of the way, the man began to turn the rope slowly, Target holding himself with both hands as he allowed his legs to fly. Once the rope was spinning fast enough that he almost became a blur, he let go with his hand, attached now only by the wrist. Another noise joined the music, and Zoe realized that Target was actually laughing. She had never heard his voice, had convinced herself that his incapacibility to speak also meant he couldn't make any noise at all. To hear a laugh so carefree from him struck her directly in the heart.

The man allowed the rope to slow down until it straightened, holding it taut as Target unclipped the loop and jumped down from the height. He bowed to the man that had helped him and tossed him the loop, getting out of the way as the women began to fight again. Another went up, but by now Zoe wasn't paying attention. She could only stare at him as he finally saw her and ran to her, picking her up and twirling her about.

Looking back, she could never understand why she did it, only that it made absolutely sense in that moment. Once Target had placed her back up on the ground, Zoe stood on the tips of her toes and impulsively pressed her lips to his. His body stiffened in surprise as they stayed still for a few moments, until Zoe came to her senses and jumped back from him. In the uncomfortable silence that followed, he tried to hold her, to somehow show her it was alright, but she was too embarrassed and ran back into the mist, almost running straight into John in her grief.

Target watched her leave and saw John emerge. The hurt in John's eyes was past what he had seen when Zoe was a girl. This was anger now, and Target was too confused to find a solution for it.

_I'm not to blame for that_.

"You didn't stop her either!" growled back John.

_I have no idea why she came to me, but she's grown, and that's her decision. Who's to say she won't do the same to you?_

"Yes, and what then? We let her run back and forth confused for eternity?"

_There's absolutely no reason she has to choose, so why force her?_

Target pulled John into an affectionate hug and smiled at him.

_There's no reason it can't be the three of us, and no reason to assume she will even want either of us in the end!_

Angry, John pulled away. His friend had always been his comfort. They had always complemented each other so perfectly, a couple created from madness and logic. Looking at him, John knew in his heart that Target simply couldn't see why this was an issue, and it was difficult to direct his anger towards him. Yet he cared for Zoe, also, and the memory of her as a child throwing a ball at his head while she skipped off with Target was one he had never quite forgotten.

He stomped away, leaving Target confused in his wake. Invisible, the Quidam had watched the entire exchange, and his umbrella drooped slightly in annoyance. John was allowing anger to enter his perfect world, and though it wasn't Zoe's fault, he almost wished he had never allowed the girl to stay.


	4. Mambo

John knew if he encountered anyone else at this moment, there would be a fight. There was no way to release his anger at having seen them together, and his desperation almost unnerved him. If he lashed out, the Quidam's concern about allowing the girl to stay would only increase, and he couldn't risk her being forced out of their world. Though Target was usually the one person he could rely on in such an intensely emotional situation, that connection was gone to him now, and he felt more alone than ever.

It didn't make sense, any of it. He had never understood the concept of possession. When Zoe had wandered in as a child, he had finally felt that stab for the first time, though it had faded when the girl had taken his arm. It had made him sick to his stomach to watch Zoe and Target at the very beginning, but even that was nothing compared to the heart-wrenching pain he now encountered.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he didn't notice what was in his path and stepped right into a coat rack. It hit him squarely in the head and he grimaced in annoyance. There was absolutely no purpose in the object being there! After a moment of rubbing his hand along the bump on his head, he recognized the object as the coat rack he had danced with all those years ago. He had joked with the Quidam that, with Target spending so much time with the girl, he had momentarily lost his partner and deserved another to even out the playing field. The Quidam had summoned this piece of metal as a joke and walked away, though dancing with it had gotten Zoe's attention for the first time. Perhaps there was more to the headless man's gag than he had first thought.

He leaned against the metal pipe and heard the mambo strike up. His anger slowly faded as the old memories rushed back, and John chuckled to himself as his feet found the steps.

Far removed from all the events in the world around her, Zoe sobbed on her bed, the door shut to keep Target from running after her. She couldn't believe how stupid she had been. These two men were her guardians. She assumed they still thought of her as some pathetic, lost project to guide and release. The fact that Target hadn't shoved her away only showed his kindness.

At least that's what she tried to convince herself of. The fact was that a small voice inside of her knew that Target had enjoyed the kiss just as much as she had, but the idea of losing either of them was less terrifying than having to actually figure out what she felt, so she focused on the negative as a form of distraction.

_But what if he _had_ liked it?_

Zoe wasn't naïve enough to have missed the silent exchange between her two companions. It was clear that John was angry with her, and he had every right to be. She had always treated him as the less interesting of the two, associating him with her father. Having grown up from her last journey, she knew that they were both equally interesting so long as she put aside any biases she may have. She couldn't let him stay angry with her. Drying her eyes, she left her room determined to find John again.

It was only a few steps out of her door that she spotted John, though this never surprised her anymore. You only had to want something to find it in this world. She laughed to see him dancing and covered her mouth to not disturb him, but it wasn't quick enough. John stopped and turned to find her there smiling at him, genuinely happy after having a chance to calm himself. She skipped closer until they were nearly touching, the silence stretching awkwardly.

"You mustn't judge my dancing abilities on this, you know. My girl here is a rather stiff partner," he joked.

"I'm probably stiffer than her. I've never danced at all."

"Never? As in never ever?"

Zoe rolled her eyes and nodded. Picking up the coat rack, John put it aside and watched it disappear into thin air.

"Well, I suppose I'll teach you then."

"There is no way I'm embarrassing myself like that!"

She squealed and tried to escape as he held her in his arms, attempting to position her. When it became clear that he wasn't letting her go, she pouted but stopped struggling and allowed John to twirl her about. John was a gentle teacher. He moved slowly with her, talking through the steps, as the appropriate music played as if on cue. Her eyes sparkled as he led her through a waltz, the air around them electric. This was the John she remembered, and she couldn't be happier.

In the distance, Target and the Quidam watched them. Target jumped up and down silently as he saw how happy they were. He elbowed the figure next to him, pointing obnoxiously.

_You see! I told you they'd work it out!_

The Quidam remained silent, and Target interpreted the lack of argument as agreement. Not wanting to disturb them, Target left the three of them, finding something else to amuse him. As the music picked up to a faster mambo, the Quidam remained, tapping his hand on his thigh in time with the music.

John had pulled the girl closer with each consecutive dance, hoping that she felt just as he did. Their eyes locked for a moment and Zoe's heart beat faster. Unnerved by it, she stumbled over her feet and nearly fell over, caught by John at the last moment. He held her as they laughed over the mishap, not letting her go even when the laughter stopped. Slowly, hesitantly, John leaned closer and cupped her face with the palm of his hand. The seconds seemed like years as he moved closer to her, finally pressing a small kiss to her cheek.

As he pulled away, she simply looked at him and smiled. John twirled her quickly to break the moment, and she laughed as she once again caught on with the steps. The tempo increased as he moved her from a waltz to a mambo, the sound of her laughter encouraging him to throw in a few more unexpected steps. Zoe caught on quickly to everything he threw at her. She couldn't believe how natural it felt to move with him like this, attempting something that had always scared her into shyness. A few dances later, John pulled her close and kissed her nose lightly, laughing heartily as she stuck her tongue out at him in response.

For hours, they moved as one, the music never stopping for a moment. Zoe almost felt like she had been dancing her entire life with how easy it now felt. After a half dozen dances, her feet began to grow tired, and she pulled herself away and asked him to slow down. He rolled his eyes but consented, sitting on the floor and playfully pulling her down with him. She giggled as she nearly tripped over her own feet on the way down, steadying herself by keeping her hands on his shoulders. Time froze as they looked at one another, neither quite sure what to do in this stillness after the frenzy they had just stopped. With only a moment's hesitation, John pulled her face to his and softly traced the line of her cheek. It seemed only natural when he kissed her for the third time, this time pressing his lips against hers. She sighed in contentment, returning the kiss for a split second.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she noticed the Quidam for the first time. She moved out of John's arms, jumping back onto her feet. Though the Quidam gestured as if to ask her to stay, she pulled away and fled.

Feigning annoyance, John stood and crossed his arms over his chest and stared down the Quidam. The creature merely shrugged and calmly walked away, a slight bounce to his step. Noticing that his hand still tapped to the unheard music, John broke out into laughter. Nothing could dampen his mood now.

He went out in search of some other amusement, hoping he would run into Target along the way. It was best if neither of them pushed the girl. He had one beautiful moment, and he wouldn't ruin it for the world.


	5. Contortion in Silk

**Author's Note: This chapter contains descriptions of self-harm and suicide. If these are trigger for you, skip this chapter and go to the next one.**

Though Zoe was truly happy at having felt some kind of affection from her two companions, over time the feeling was quickly replaced with dread. She had avoided them ever since her duet with John, choosing to spend most of her time either in her room or wandering the mist. Everyone she had ever cared for had abandoned her, and it was a constant she led her life by. Even when they all returned together as a happy family, it had been a short interlude between her mother's suicide and father's remarriage. She wanted to be loved, desperately so, but had learned to assume that any happiness had to come with despair.

_Even if they care about me now, it's only a while before I lose them, too._

She rolled up the sleeve of her worn jacket, tracing the lines of her scars with her fingertips. Some of them were old enough to be barely noticeable against the paleness of her skin. Others, far more recent, were the ugly red they always were for weeks after she created them. Zoe thought back to the moment when her father had seen them for the first time. The look in his eyes had been heart-breaking. Close to tears at the memory, she shoved her old jacket's sleeve down again to cover them.

_They'll never care for me when they realize what I did…_

The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over, but she angrily wiped them away. Her room was always her comfort, but now she couldn't look at her bed without remembering her last fight with her father and stepmother. Zoe didn't know where to go, but anywhere else was better than here. Slamming the door behind her, she exited into the mists.

"Let me fall…"

The music swept over her the instant she had stepped out of her door. She would remember that song anywhere. Turning back, she found that the spot where her door had previously stood was replaced with a long span of red silk falling from the sky. She slowly backed away until she saw where the silk met the blackness of the sky, finally seeing a small, pale woman wrapping herself in the silk. The woman looked familiar, too familiar. She almost screamed and ran, and she paused only when the music washed over her once more.

"There's a moment where fear and dream must collide…"

Floating above her, the woman desperately reached out, returning back into the silk when nothing met her grasp. Zoe refused to run from it. Sinking to the floor, she sat cross legged and stared above her, curling her hands into fists so tight that her nails sank into her skin. The pain was a feeling she welcomed and she hurriedly pulled her sleeve back up to dig her nails into her wrist.

In another corner of the realm, John and Target walked together, but both stopped in their tracks as the music filtered over them. The world around them had begun to conform to its newest visitor as it always did, and they knew very well that it would morph to whatever Zoe felt at a particular moment. Their ears strained to listen to the music as it passed by them.

"I won't heed your warnings. I won't hear…"

They looked at each other worriedly and ran to find the girl. Those words couldn't mean anything good, and they wouldn't lose her now. It wasn't difficult to locate the span of red silk falling from the sky. Wrapped within it was a figure that rarely ventured out except when a guest called her from the darkness. The depths of longing in her eyes as she strained to climb higher were impossible to look at for long. Below, Zoe sat looking up, seemingly entranced.

Target was the first to notice what Zoe was doing to herself. When John noticed, he moved as if to run to the girl, but Target held out his arm to block his route.

_We can't stop her, John._

"And exactly why can't we? I just want her to be happy and here she is physically attacking herself!"

_Pain and pleasure aren't so separate in this world and you know that. This her choice, and if you run there like so misguided knight in shining armor, she'll never allow us to see this side again. Calm yourself before you act._

"Someone I am is waiting for my courage," Zoe whispered to herself.

John carefully made his way to her and sat next to her. At her lack of response, he beckoned Target to sit on her other side. Neither knew what to do, so they simply wrapped her arms around her. She remained stiff in their embrace but didn't move away. It was better than nothing.

After watching for a few more long moments, Zoe finally spoke. "I remember my mother singing this song back, you know, where you brought me from. Ever since my dad…"

"You don't have to tell us," John reassured her.

"So, what, you all will keep watching me and freaking out every time you think I might be hurt? I'm not a china doll! I've got enough of that back home," she smiled grimly. "That woman up there, all these years I thought she was trying to kill herself, just like mother. But she isn't. She's trying to feel something. I'm supposed to feel sorry for her but all I can do is be jealous that I can't feel like she can."

Their arms tightened around her. Target gently took her hand and led it away from her arm. The nail marks were like crescent moons edged into her skin. He moved his hand over her arm, studying every mark there. Suddenly shy, Zoe pulled away, but Target held her there.

"I had to. I know you can't understand that, but everything over there, it never seemed real. This is the only thing that ever felt right and I only had it for a day before the Quidam took it back. I had to feel somehow, right?"

John's hand joined Target's on her skin as he gently spoke to her, "But now you're here and we're not going to make you go back. That's your choice now. Why do you still need this?"

Zoe opened her mouth to answer then closed it again. Above them, the woman hung upside down, held only by the silk tied around her ankle. She arched her back as she tried to grasp the other piece of silk cloth. With a push, she began to twirl in the sky. Watching her for a few moments steadied Zoe enough so that she could try to answer.

"This place feels right, sure. But I still don't feel anything, not pain, love, nothing. It's too beautiful here to feel nothing at all."

_Target, honestly, this makes no sense! How can it be better to feel pain?_

_It is who she is. Look at the women who watch the cloud swing, continuously choking themselves. Have you ever seen them unhappy? I'll admit I don't fully understand. I just refuse to take from her something that makes her happy._

_Neither will I. You know that. I just wish I had a better answer._

Target smiled as he held Zoe and began to tickle her. She giggled and, as she became distracted, he pulled the jacket away from her. Tossing it into the air, it seemed to disappear entirely. She squealed a protest then pouted, pulling away from both of them and using her other hand to cover the marks on her scarred arm. John held her down when she attempted to scurry away, moving her hand away from her arm yet again so that she couldn't cover them.

"Well, Target has always been a bit more dramatic than I, but I rather agree. No more hiding from us, little one. These scars are a part of you and that is enough."

Confused, she nodded, pulling away again. Neither stopped her. She wanted time alone to think and left them in the mist, searching for her room. The contortionist disappeared behind her as she heard the distant sound of a gong. Zoe searched for its source and found the statues, alone as always, their pale skin almost translucent in the light. The man held the woman up upon his neck and Zoe sat to watch them. Their movements were so slow that she could barely register them, but she saw that he was able to stand and still hold her completely upright. It took her breath away. The amount of trust they must have in one another to not even shake in that sort of position was something she had never felt and possibly never would.

As she watched them, she tried to imagine feeling what they felt. Passion was something almost alien to Zoe, though she had begun to experience it before she left the real world. The pangs of desire weren't new to her. So far, they had always been directed at a celebrity or some scene in a book she was reading. She had never before felt that sort of stirring for an actual person.

The man lowered the woman to the floor as they stretched out horizontally, still holding each other tightly. She wondered if Target could ever hold her like that, so carefully and gently that he may never let her go at all. The thought morphed to John and that breathless kiss after they danced.

She stood there for what seemed like hours. It began to dawn on her that she could have that happiness if she just let herself try and get it. Shaking her head, she abruptly left her reverie. It was impossible. To choose one would be to leave behind the other. Unlike the statues in front of her, their was not one that made her a completed pair. She cared for both dearly. They were both Zoe's best friends, had been since her first journey.

_How can I make them fight because of me? I owe them so much!_

The air around Zoe became charged and she felt a presence near her. When minutes passed and the figure had not moved, she turned and found the Quidam watching her. Somehow it didn't surprise her. She turned around again and they continued to watch the statues together, seeing them move into two more poses. When the Quidam still refused to move, she impatiently turned to the creature next of her and stamped her foot in annoyance.

"It isn't _fair_! None of this is fair!"

The Quidam shrugged. He pointed to the pair in front of them, pointing next to Zoe and shaking his finger at her.

"Why not? Why can't I have that?"

He leaned forward and pointed at her heart.

"Great answer. If I follow my heart, I'm just going to hurt someone!"

Somehow, she knew he didn't agree with her, though it didn't make any sense. Their wasn't a face or expression to judge, and yet she understood him somewhat. The Quidam held his arm out to her. She took it warily and they began to stroll away from the statues, walking at a comfortable pace. It was calming to be near this creature somehow. After walking a few paces, the Quidam settled his umbrella over both of them. Around them, thunder shook through the air and it began to rain. She giggled and looked up to watch it from the relative safety of her temporary shelter.

As she grew distracted and bored with such a silent companion, her room's door appeared near them and he escorted her to it, holding the umbrella until she was safely dry within it. She mumbled her thanks as he bowed to her and left. Slamming the door shut, she kicked it in frustration.

_Maybe it was easier over there!_


	6. Rivage

It seemed an eternity that Target and John had sat near Zoe's door, hoping that she would stop her self-imposed seclusion. Time ran strangely in this world, making it impossible to know just how long she had been in there, but they were worried nonetheless. John had wanted to knock on the door and storm in, only stopping because Target pulled him back.

_You'll just act like her mother and goodness knows that is the worst possible comparison to put in her head at this moment._

"I can't sit here and wait for her to come up. This will drive me crazy," John muttered.

_You can't make an insane person any stranger. Perhaps to make one of us crazy would be to make them sane?_

John chuckled at his friend's attempt to make him laugh and then turned serious when he heard a light thump at the door. Nothing came of it. Sighing, he slumped on the floor and leaned against the door, banging his head in the process. Target sat next to him and rested his head upon John's shoulder. It had been so long since the last time they had touched that he jumped for a moment at the contact before relaxing against the door again.

Target simply wasn't one to physically reach out to others. He was a watcher first and foremost, a creature content to remain on the sidelines and watch as others lived their lives. He respected John's lack of attraction to him and rarely reached out, but he had caught him watching him often enough that it was impossible not to see he cared for him in a way he couldn't reciprocate. Yet John was a showman, always looking for an audience, and he never pushed Target's voyeuristic tendencies away. They complimented one another's needs even if they couldn't fulfill them and that was sufficient.

It occurred to John that any who saw them would believe they were lovers and he nearly laughed as he remembered all the rumors that had passed through their world before. Everyone assumed something was going on between them. He couldn't exactly fault them for that. There was an undercurrent there that both knew and acknowledged, but others could never understand that the mind could have a connection that a physical body never could. But something was missing and they both knew it. Though they had never been intimate, they knew instinctively that was not the missing component, but had long ago resolved to stop trying to understand it at all. Even if they were not complete, they still had something few in any world had, and that was enough.

"Do you think we'll be waiting for long?"

Target looked up at John incredulously and sarcastically replied. _We are speaking of the same Zoe, yes? The same stubborn, teenage, ridiculously amazing yet overwhelmingly frustrated girl that barricades herself in this room more often than we can remove her?_

John shrugged and didn't answer. His friend did have a point.

Behind them, the door suddenly opened, and they both fell backwards into the room and landed on Zoe's feet. She jumped back when she saw them. Laughing, she gently kicked them back out the door, exiting and closing it behind her. They both stared. She was beautiful in the flowing, knee length red gown she wore. It was as if she had taken the silk from the aerial contortion and fashioned a dress out of it. Even more surprising was that her arms were bare. John and Target exchanged a long look.

_That's why she took so long. She was working up the courage to let us see this side of her. Well, I don't mind the wait if it led to something better, no?_

John slightly nodded in agreement so that the girl didn't notice his movements. It was difficult to look at her this beautiful and not want to kiss her again. With his reconciliation with Target tentative at best, he couldn't allow himself to stay near the girl. Channeling similar thoughts to his friend, he turned and smiled to Zoe, "I am sorry to depart so quickly, little one, but I have an appointment with the Quidam…"

Zoe waved him off, "Go. I don't need two babysitters."

She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. John moved to hold her then decided against it.

_If you're really so nervous about pouncing on the girl, why not visit the Handbalancer? You two seemed to get rather friendly the last time I saw…_

John glared at Target until the thought quieted. It had been a long time since they had been acquainted. He remembered how he had held his hand out to Zoe on her first visit that, enraptured with watching the Handbalancer, ignored him entirely. He had sulked away, but the woman sought him out later when Zoe was busy and told him that, while the girl might be too young to want his attentions, she was not the only woman in the realm. The affair had been passionate and tempestuous, something Target still held over him whenever he wanted to embarrass him. It had never officially ended but somehow had fizzled out, yet in times of need them still called upon one another. Perhaps this was one of those times. With a curt nod in Zoe's direction, he turned and fled, searching his pockets for the conductor's rod he had previously used to summon her. Zoe watched him confusedly then turned back at the creature in front of her.

"That leaves you then, huh?"

Target nodded.

"I really wish I could understand what you're thinking," she muttered.

Cocking his head in concern, Target simply pulled the girl close. Eventually she would learn to hear him. Few heard him in this realm, but with time and closeness it would occur. She simply had to be patient. Trying to reassure her with the embrace, Target awkwardly let her go and diffused the moment by ruffling up Zoe's hair. She squealed and stuck her tongue out at him.

_This is the Zoe we remember_.

Nearby, the loud crash of drums sounded, and Zoe turned in their direction. Allowing her to watch what was most certainly happening was not what Target intended and so he grabbed her, tossing her onto his back and leaping in the other direction until the music faded out. They found the Aviator somewhere in the mists and Zoe smiled to recognize another old friend. Target placed Zoe on the Aviator's back and stepped back. She was safe with this creature no matter what.

"You go on, Target. You don't need to guard me every minute, you know."

Target locked eyes with the Aviator. Though he couldn't understand him fully, he understood the gist: keep the girl busy as long as possible or until one of them returned for her. It was not his place to question. Jumping so that she was almost knocked off and laughing at the near catch, he bounded back into the mists. Target watched them until they faded from sight. It was only then that he returned in the direction he had come from. He wasn't about to miss the show.

The sound of the drums came louder as he saw the Handbalancer's canes in the near distance. Target stared at the woman for a few moments, as always marveling at how she looked, before crouching to make himself less visible. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest, her stance defensive, and was clearly not ecstatic to have been interrupted. The tension in the air was palpable. Idly, Target wondered if the duo would create enough of an emotional charge to make the lights flicker or if they could keep things a bit calmer this time. Either way, it would be interesting to watch.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, she finally spoke, her lyrical voice filling the space. "I had wondered why you hadn't sought me out sooner. You had expressed an interest in the girl that, while appropriate for her age, must have developed into something quite different once she returned, no?" John opened his mouth to speak, but she continued over him. "I am not insulted. To be a suitable substitute for someone you care for is a compliment. Now, let's not pretend this is more than what it is. I came because I wished to see you. Why you require verbal permission to do what my appearance has already confirmed is something I have never understood about you."

Silence filled the space between them as she finished speaking. With only a moment's hesitation, he grabbed her and pulled her close, his lips meeting hers. Hidden, Target barely suppressed a giggle, and John looked over the woman's shoulder to see that he was there. Groaning, he pulled away, and the woman turned to find Target impishly waving greetings to her. She laughed at John's annoyance.

"The faithful watcher returns," she smirked. "Why exactly is this a reason for you to stop?"

_She is correct. I've watched before, why stop now? _

John rolled his eyes but remained silent. She took advantage of his lack of response and slammed her body into his, continuing the kiss. Target made himself more comfortable and settled in. This would take a while.

Completely removed from her companions, Zoe journeyed through the now familiar landscape with her guide. His skeletal wings glistened as they passed through pockets of light and she held on for the ride. She knew so many of these creatures now by name and a few even tried to pull her into their games. Disentangling herself from the diablo girls and the children skipping rope was a feat unto itself. She loved to be with them, but she couldn't match their energy, and so the Aviator would pick her back up again and take her somewhere else.

As they traveled, Zoe realized that she had not seen all the characters she had witnessed on her last journey. She clearly remembered the women twisting in their metallic circles and yet another woman flying above the stage barely held onto a rope. These solitary figures eluded her now. Most surprising was that she had not yet seen those that flew with the Banquine. It couldn't be easy to miss such a large group of people constantly. Curious, Zoe poked the Aviator's shoulder until he stopped moving.

"Why haven't I seen everyone yet? I know there was more."

Pausing for a moment, the Aviator's gritty voice responded. "Do you recall how the German Wheel found you the first moment you entered both times?" She nodded and he continued. "Some of these groups find you. They reveal themselves either when you are ready or when you require them. If you have not yet seen some of the creatures of our world, the Quidam has merely decided it isn't yet time for you to."

Zoe allowed that to sink in, finally responding, "So this place, it's changes depending on what's in my mind?"

He nodded in response. As strange an idea as it might have seemed to her just a few weeks ago, it now made sense. If she could morph the world so easily, the Quidam's powers of manipulation would easily surpass her, and allowing her only to see what he wished seemed like something he would do. She had just never considered that he would be so involved in her welfare, distant and removed as he normally acted. It was almost a reassurance that he wanted her to stay and she smiled to herself.

Poking his shoulder again, she raised her voice a bit, "Come on. Even if I can't see everything, I bet you can run faster than I can focus on what I _can _see!"

Laughing, the Aviator jumped so that Zoe was nearly unseated. "I may not fly above here, but I can fly when I run. Come on. Let's see if I'm not too fast for you."

With that, he ran into the mist, Zoe playfully giggling as she held on and they disappeared into the mists once more.

Miles away, Target lay on the ground, propping his head up on his hands. John idly fixed the Handbalancer's hair as she laid her head in his lap.

"Was that sufficient?" she asked casually.

_If we're asking my opinion…_

"We're not," John grumpily answered. The Handbalancer started at his annoyed voice but he soothed her back into his lap. "That was for this clown, not you. You are always enough, coquette. You just…"

"I know," she laughed. "I'm not her. So why are you here and not there? This game is ridiculous to all involved."

Target and John exchanged glances. There really wasn't an easy answer to that question.

Carefully phrasing his words, he responded. "I wouldn't want to push her. She's still so young, and besides, she's fond of both of us. She needs time to decide…"

The Handbalancer abruptly cut him off. "Those are excuses, not reasons. She is no younger than I was when you brought me here and I refused the Quidam's offer to return, and I haven't aged since. The real reason, then, must be your second excuse."

John nodded guiltily and Target clapped his hands to indicate she was correct. John attempted to explain himself but the attempt was yet again cut off by the woman as she continued, "For being the smartest in this realm, you two really can be imbeciles sometimes. I'm sitting here with both of you. Now, exactly why is that alright but she has to somehow pick between you? Is there a rule I'm not aware of that requires all new recruits to select a single partner?"

"But it isn't common in her world, coquette, you know that."

"This isn't her world. It's ours. Their rules no longer apply." At his silence, she became annoyed. "If you insist on bringing their morality into here, well, you might as well have left her there!"

_She does have a point. There is no reason it can't be the both of us, or none of us, or one of us. The decision doesn't matter so long as it's hers, and yet you seem opposed to the idea of sharing her. Why?_

Understanding dawned on the Handbalancer as she watched John's eyes turn angry. "It's what it was before, isn't it? You're still upset about her choosing Target on her last journey."

"Fine, and so what if that's it?" John retorted. "I was tossed to the side the last time."

"You reminded her of her father. If I recall correctly, you even stole his shoes! She never would have willingly chosen to spend time with something that gave her a glimpse of what she was trying to escape. This is another time. She hasn't pushed you away yet, has she?" She straightened her dress as she stood up. "I don't have the time to sit around and wait for you to stop being so stubborn. Think about it. I'm here if you need to relax again."

The Handbalancer kissed both their cheeks before vanishing entirely. John and Target remained still as they contemplated her words.

_May I say "I told you so" now?_

John half-heartedly punched Target's shoulder, who scurried away at the last moment. It wasn't simple to admit they were both correct. Sighing, he lay his head on his knees as he tried to not become restless again. Target moved closer and placed his own head in John's lap again and stared up at his eyes.

_Fine. I'll save that one for later. But can we at least stop being this silly from now on?_

"Yes," he whispered. "But I can't promise this will be simple."

_Love never is._

John froze at that word. Love. It was a bigger word than either of them had thought of before, and yet it fit completely. They heard footsteps approach and the worrying thought disappeared form their minds as the Aviator came through the mist, Zoe still on his back. She was breathless from the ride and gratefully jumped off. Steadying herself on solid ground again, she glanced over at her friends.

"That was amazing! I think I need a few days to catch my breath," she laughed. Target moved out of the way so John could happily pull Zoe into his embrace. She relaxed tiredly in his arms, half asleep from exhaustion.

In the distance, as always, the Quidam watched. He saw. He listened. His umbrella cocked to one side, he considered the sight before him and approved. It was time to allow her to see more. He just hoped they were all ready for what was to come.

**A/N: Alright, I know I'm about to get a lot of WTF's, but this is nowhere near where I thought this story would go. I sat in front of a laptop for a half hour feeling inspired, didn't notice what I was writing, and when I stop this was it. I basically threw out my story outline and decided to run with it. However, I want to know what my fans think. This was an insane twist and I'm the next chapter might get stranger. I really need opinions and critiques!**


	7. Interlude

Weeks passed and Zoe started to become a permanent fixture of the Quidam's world. Target and John slowly began to trust her and allowed her to wander alone. At least once a day, she would seek them out, talk, laugh, and disappear again. It wasn't that she actively avoided them so much as her mind was focused on the multitude of things around her. With the many inhabitants of the world eager to keep her entertained, there was never a want of company, and she reveled in it. Neither John nor Target could bring themselves to take that away from her.

Over time, both men grew used to her stolen kisses and never pushed for more. It was clear she cared for them both but more than that they simply didn't know. The few times Target had caught her in John's embrace, she had guiltily pulled away, and he didn't know how to tell her it was alright to be with both of them. Not knowing how to broach such a delicate subject, John also kept silent on the matter.

It was during one of Zoe's wanderings that John decided to track Target down and discuss the situation again. He heard the slow, haunting melodies of the Manipulator and smelled the familiar smoke. Following it, he found Target holding two sparklers in his hands, dancing to the music almost hypnotically. Fire had always been the one element he kept to himself, just as John's dancing was his own act. When the sparklers burned out, Target tossed them to the side and skipped towards his friend, sprawling on the ground. John shook his head in amusement and sat next to him in silence.

_So what's this about, anyhow? You never look for me unless it's time for us to tour one of the children we enlist or something's gone wrong. I know the Quidam has chosen to not bring in outsiders while Zoe acclimates, which leads me to the second conclusion. Am I correct?_

John nodded and hesitated before speaking. "It's about Zoe." Target instantly sat up, concerned, before John continued. "She isn't in trouble so you can calm down."

Sighing heavily, Target laid back down.

_Try not to terrify me like that. What is it now?_

"I know she spends time with you. I've seen you two embracing a few times though luckily she has never seen me. I know that you have intruded on the same and she's also become nervous. I want her to be happy, and she seems happy with us, but there must be some way to minimize her discomfort."

_I'm not exactly sure how. She is convinced she must choose one of us. Their world teaches them that. Discussing it with her will either make her run away yet again or push her into something she may not be prepared for._

"You think I don't know that? I can't pretend I'm overwhelmingly joyful at seeing you two together, but I care for you both. I can learn with time. Her I'm not so sure."

_There's a middle ground, you know, though it isn't a pleasant one._

Curious, John leaned closer, "What?"

_Ask the Quidam_.

The silence stretched on almost tortuously as the thought remained between them. The Quidam was not dangerous, but he certainly wasn't a creature to be trifled with. To bring something to his attention might convince him to banish it from his world entirely rather than disturb the natural order of things. They both looked at each other, neither sure of how to continue the discussion. John knew they were treading on dangerous ground and Target simply didn't want to attract outsiders to the situation if it could be helped.

Annoyed, John broke the silence as he leaned back again, thinking heavily. "It's a risk, you know. It's a risk for her more than for us."

_So we see if he's finally decided to allow her to stay permanently. If he has, we can request that he bring other creatures out as an example. Don't we already use these creatures as lessons for the children we bring here? Why not do it for Zoe when it has already worked once?_

"I can't think of a better idea. I just wish there were another way…"

Footsteps sounded behind them and John stopped the sentence midway. They both turned to see Zoe approaching, daydreaming as she walked so that she didn't even notice them. Her clothing had grown more adult as time passed, usually mirroring whatever act she was particularly enthralled with at the time. Now her ankle length gown shimmered with it's slightly silver threading, a tribute to the diablos that she had begun to try and use herself. She had never covered her arms again since the Aerial Contortion and even the scars looked beautiful on her. They stared for a few moments before John coughed and interrupted her reverie.

"I didn't see you two there!" she started, laughing. "I was practicing with the diablos and actually managed to catch one for once! I figured I should quit while I was ahead for one day."

_If the creatures are allowing her to train in their acts, then perhaps approaching the Quidam will not be so difficult._

John nodded slightly in agreement. It was a good sign to see her joining their ranks. He had only realized the Handbalancer had decided to stay when she had begun to train on her own. It was the way of the world, finding the right place for every creature within it, maintaining a balance that only the Quidam understood. If nothing happened without his approval, it could be assumed Zoe had been allowed to adapt, but John was not about to ask for a favor without more tentative proof. Not wanting to worry the girl with his silence, he stood up and bowed to her dramatically.

"What then, my lady? Looking for something else to do?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Maybe Target can try and teach me how to use those sparklers again."

"Your dress didn't survive that particular trial very well," he laughed, remembering how it had caught fire before they had quickly put it out. She wasn't graceful enough for Target's movements yet. Then again, the Handbalancer had been clumsy when she arrived, as well. Time changed everything.

"Clowns, then? That doesn't take much effort," she pouted.

Target nodded and picked Zoe up, tossing her onto his back yet again. She squealed and John followed as they sought the clowns out, finding them in the midst of another musical practice session. They settled comfortably on the floor and watched as the clowns lost their stands, laughing at the jokes that were as predictable as they were enjoyable.

Zoe sat between the two men and leaned her head against Target's shoulder. He struggled to not jump for excitement.

_See, look! She hasn't done that before in front of you!_

John didn't dare reply for fear of embarrassing her. He sat still, trying to enjoy the moment. An idea came to him and he tentatively reached his hand out to hers. He softly took her hand and pulled it back to his lap, holding it gently but making no other attempt at contact. She leaned up to look at him and John smiled in reassurance. Time stood still as the tension became palpable.

_Great. You've gone and ruined…_

Target stopped the thought as Zoe sighed heavily. Carefully, as if terrified of what might happen when she finished, she leaned her head back against Target's shoulder. A few moments later, she squeezed John's hand, holding onto it as tightly as she did when they were alone. The men froze. The silence between them was uncomfortable at the very least. As time passed, Zoe began to relax and even laugh as she watched the clowns and her companions relaxed with her, amazed at what had occurred.

_I take it back. For once, you've gotten something right._

"This doesn't make sense, you know," she whispered, startling them with the sudden noise.

"Do you mean this, us?" John asked.

Zoe nodded.

"Nothing makes sense, little one, yet it also all makes perfect sense. You must do what makes you happy, nothing more and nothing less."

Zoe didn't respond but neither did she pull away. Both men allowed her the silence to think on her own. John allowed his thoughts to drift, surprised that the jealousy he usually felt when his friend was with the girl had vanished once he took her hand. He had assumed he simply couldn't share her. Now he began to wonder if what truly made him jealous was envy of Target having something he wanted so badly. In this moment, with all three of them content, there was no place for envy. It was possible that the Handbalancer's words rung true.

_Don't think that far ahead, John. Just let things go as they will. To try and push this in any direction at all will destroy what it could become without interference._

Agreeing, John stopped his thoughts and focused instead on the clowns, laughing along with Zoe. He looked down at her hand, small and cold within his much larger, warmer grasp. The scars on her arm were visible in the light, but the sight of them didn't worry him as they once had. If he didn't trust her, she could never be expected to trust them.

After a few hours, Zoe began to grow tired and squeezed John's hand again before letting it go. She wrapped her arms around Target's stomach and hugged him tightly for a moment before turning and giving John the same hug. Her room's door materialized as she got back on her feet, looking at them confusedly.

"I can't say I know what's going on. But maybe that's a good thing this time," she whispered mostly to herself.

Leaning down, she kissed John's cheek them Target's. Just as quickly, she turned and skipped towards her room. The door opened when she reached it and she turned to wave at them before disappearing within its frame. The moment it shut, Target turned to John, utter excitement in his eyes.

_Now what?_

"Now I talk to the Quidam."

_I thought you were going to wait._

"I was, but it seems that things are going quite a bit better than we previously thought."

_I truly think she's a part of this world now. I can't imagine that the Quidam would interfere with something like this, not when he allowed the Handbalancer and two of the Rope Skippers to remain over the years._

"I agree, but that doesn't mean I can't worry about it. Wish me luck," he chuckled.

Target smiled and hugged John on impulse. He didn't return the gesture, just as always, but there was no awkwardness in the rejection. John playfully pushed Target's arm in response and reluctantly got to his feet. Looking around, he located a particularly dark area of the mist and headed towards it. It was always easiest to find the Quidam outside of all action and he wanted isolation for a question as delicate as this.

In the darkness, the Quidam stood waiting. He knew John was coming and knew his question. He knew what his response would be as he knew everything else about his world, past or future. For better or worse, his creation was about to drastically change. The world that all of his creations lived in would never return to what it once was.Then again, change was neither good nor ill. It simply was, had been, and would be. He could only hope his creations understood that idea well enough to understand what was to come.


	8. Fuego

Once John finally reached the Quidam's location, he glanced about at his surroundings. Everything had faded into the distance. It was if they were the only two creatures in existence and it unnerved him. Glancing up, he saw the Quidam's umbrella tilted slightly in his direction, indicating his attention. With a slow nod, John took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts.

Before he had a chance to speak, a soft, low voice invaded his mind, "You seek my permission for something, do you not?"

John was shocked. Few had ever heard the Quidam speak, and usually it was not the best of signs. A gesture was safer, indicating permission but lacking the intense interest that usually ended with one's banishment. He allowed himself a moment to recover before weighing his words.

"You know the dilemma we are in, Target and I. We seek your advice."

"No," came the wordless response. "You have already decided on a course of action. It is not my advice you seek but something else. Come, sit. We have much to speak of."

Behind them, a bench materialized from the air. John settled himself down next to the creature. This would not be an easy conversation.

Elsewhere, Target had allowed Zoe time to sleep, but perched himself outside her door. He wanted to see her desperately. Should the Quidam reject their request and he lose the woman he had grown to love, he wanted at least a few last moments with her. He started as the door opened and closed behind him. Turning, he saw that she had dressed herself in white and red, his colors. He smiled as she blushed, clearly aware of what she implied with the match. Wrapping her up in his arms, she allowed him to steal one quick kiss before placing her back on the ground.

"You're up to something, Target, so spill it!"

Target smiled devilishly before conjuring a sparkler out of the air. He held it out to her, not yet allowing it to light. Carefully, she took the gift from his outstretched hand and held it arm's length away from herself. Once it was a good distance away from her clothing, Target, snapped his fingers and it lit. Zoe jumped in surprise but then looked up at him, smiling for a moment before running from him. He chased after her and watched as she twirled it in the mists, her movements clumsy but still charming. She danced by herself as Target watched, becoming more confident as the seconds dragged on. Zoe kicked her leg gently into the air and leaned back, allowing the sparks to fly behind her as she twirled. She lost her balance and Target snapped his fingers to douse the flame, catching her just before she fell. Giggling, she pulled them both onto the floor.

"I almost did it this time, and nothing's on fire just yet!"

_Try again?_

They both froze.

Zoe knew no one else was around. The only voice she could possibly have heard had to be Target's. The lilting, musical tone that filled her mind seemed a perfect match for the trickster this creature was, and yet she couldn't believe that she had finally heard him. Target stared at her, his smile growing as he processed what had just occurred. He had never intended for her to hear him; it had simply happened.

_You can hear this?_

She nodded, biting her lip to not cry in happiness. Target pounced on her and twirled her about, both of them high from the energy of the moment. In his excitement, he had pulled her a bit closer and they had come to a stop with his arms wrapped around her waist. Rather than pulling away, she laid her head upon his chest, sighing in contentment.

"I thought your heartbeat was all I would ever hear."

_And I thought hand gestures were all you would ever understand._

"But how? How can I hear you now? What does it mean?"

Target knew exactly what it meant. They had bonded on a deeper level as he had with John ages ago. It was something to adjust to, and he didn't want to frighten her. Instead, he shrugged and nudged her chin up with his hand, staring into her eyes.

_It doesn't matter. You almost mastered that move, no? Do you want to try again?_

Zoe nodded again and pulled away from him, assuming he would allow her to dance freely again, but he held her firm.

_No. This time, we dance together, understand?_

With a flick of his wrist, two sparklers appeared in his hands. Letting her go, Target, turned Zoe so that she faced away from him. He took her arms in his own, gently holding her hands and placing the sparklers in them.

_Follow me then, every step._

Nervous, she hadn't a moment to think before the sparklers lit again. Target moved her slowly, making sure the sparks fell behind her so that he would be burned rather than her. They moved slowly, gliding and twisting as if they were of one mind. The sparks glittered in the mists as the music began around them, isolating them in their world. Zoe became giddy from the sensation of trusting him completely, moving with him in a way she had never thought she could. Warmth pooled in her stomach. Confused, she pushed the thought of his hands upon her out of his head, focusing on the changes in light from the sparks. As they burned themselves out, she stayed still, unsure of how to react.

Target turned her about so that they faced one another again. The music around them had grown softer and slower, and their lips met, neither knowing who kissed the other first. At first chaste, the kisses became more intense as Zoe wrapped her arms around his neck. He allowed his hands to drift down her neck and watched as her eyes closed, whimpers escaping her throat as his fingertips swept down her arm. He would give anything to pick her up and take her back to her bed, but he quieted the thought. If something occurred between them, it had to be her decision, not a whim born of a fleeting moment. Forcing himself to calm, he playfully moved away from her and turned her again.

_You got it this time, but once is luck. That doesn't mean you've mastered it. Again, then, until you can complete the dance three times without setting one of us on fire._

Dizzy and giddy, she sighed and settled back in place, feeling his hands on hers again. They recommenced their dance, her feet becoming more sure of themselves as the practice went on. Nothing could interrupt their moment.

John's conversation with the Quidam complete, he sighed in relief as he sat next to the creature. He had braced himself for the worst. He should have expected that the Quidam understood exactly what he asked.

"I will allow the Banquine to appear again," the impossible voice continued next to John. "I will not tell you when or where, but it will appear. Whether she will understand its lesson is up to you. But it will not be for some time. There is a level of maturity required for that and she has not yet attained it."

Anger flared in John as he defended Zoe, retorting, "She is much smarter than you give her credit for."

"Intelligence and maturity are not the same. What have you and Target done with her?"

John kept silent, not wanting to relate their romances with this creature, though he surely knew what had happened. To voice it would take the magic away from it and he couldn't allow that.

"Do you have any idea what she has done in that other world?" continued the Quidam. John shook his head, unsure of where this was going. "I am not saying she must lose all innocence at a snap of the fingers. This is her journey to continue, but the undercurrent of desire is necessary for the Banquine. You know this."

"She isn't ready," John responded firmly. "I cam here too soon."

Somehow, he knew the Quidam laughed at him, and looked at him for explanation. "Find the girl now, then, and see what your companion is up to. It is beginning for her. Allow her to take the reins and, when she is ready, I will manifest the Banquine. I'll ask for a favor of my choosing at another time. Is this a deal?"

John hastily agreed and set back out into the mist. The Quidam's implications had unnerved him. The music of the Manipulator filtered over them and John set out to find the pair, moving quietly to not disturb them.

In the distance, just far enough for him to not be visible, they danced together. The passion of the moment was palpable even at the distance John had placed himself. He watched as Target let the girl go, giving her a new set of sparklers for her own. Smiling, she snapped her fingers, lighting them herself as she began to dance. Her body glided effortlessly in its turn, again kicking up into the air as she leaned back, this time steady in her movements. Both men couldn't tear their eyes from the sight as she worked through a pirouette, the falling sparks creating a flickering atmosphere that only accentuated her beauty. When the sparks ended and Zoe had tossed the remaining sticks away, Target couldn't restrain himself any longer. In two strides, he had reached her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard. She didn't respond at first, more surprised than frightened, but in a few moments returned the kiss with equal intensity. Where their movements had been hesitating before, Target allowed his hands to run down her neck, barely tracing over her chest as he moved to wrap his arms about her waist.

John crept closer. His heart froze at the murmurs that she incoherently muttered as Target kissed down her neck. Looking over her shoulder, Target caught John's gaze and smiled, beckoning him to them. Zoe was so lost in the moment that she didn't notice as John approached.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, John held her from behind as Target continued to kiss her. She became startled at the new sensation and tried to pull away. John soothed her and placed a small kiss upon the back of her head.

"Little one, it is just me. Don't hide from me."

She was curious, wondering what would happen next, but just as much confused about where it all led. They sensed her uncertainty and blocked their thoughts from her as they conversed in the silence.

_John, I didn't mean to let it go this far. It simply happened…_

_I can't say I wouldn't have done the same. Our Zoe is…_

_Did you really just say "our" Zoe?_

John chuckled softly at his friend's sarcasm.

_I suppose I did, but it's true, isn't it? She can never be for one of us alone, and besides, neither of us clowns is good enough for her, perhaps putting us together makes the deficiency less apparent!_

John brushed his fingers down her neck as Target reluctantly began to pull away.

_She's lost in the moment, nothing more. This _feels _correct, but the time is simply not right, not yet._

His words echoed those of the Quidam earlier and he nodded in agreement. They wouldn't be able to restrain themselves now after so long. Better to wait until the relationship had developed further than rush into a momentary lapse of judgment they may all regret later. Slowly so as not to frighten her, John also pulled away, giving her a moment to recover from the dizziness of it all.

"That was…I've never…"

"Shush, darling," smiled John. "No excuses from you. So long as you are content, that's is enough for us."

She turned her gaze to one and then the other, unsure of how to react. Zoe needed time to think. Behind them, the door materialized yet again, and Target rolled his eyes at how quickly the world accommodated itself to her.

"It's not that I don't want to spend time with you two. You know that, right?"

_Of course we know that. Don't worry about us. All we want is your happiness._

With a small smile in Target's direction, Zoe glanced again at the door. She turned from them both and entered her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

_Do you think we frightened her?_

"No, I don't think so. The Quidam all but encouraged me to find you two."

_Romantic advice from a headless creature isn't exactly what I wanted to imagine at this point!_

John laughed at Target's grimace and gave him a playful hug. Unused to the gesture, Target didn't return it. Their own boundaries were as confused as the girl's and he wouldn't use that as an excuse to push those of a friend. John pulled himself back as the silence stretched awkwardly between them, continuing even after the door disappeared back into the mists.

"So," John began casually, breaking the discomfort. "She didn't light you on fire this time?"

Target playfully hit John in the shoulder and scampered off.

**Author's Note: I want to apologize to everyone for how long this took and give a bit of explanation that I think everyone deserves. I have based some of my characters on a partner of mine that chose to leave me several months ago. It was difficult to write about someone that I missed so I gave up entirely. Looking back, I know just how ridiculous and stupid that was, but what can you do? So, here's this chapter! I'm really hoping I'm back for good! After all this time, I could really use some reviews to get me back on track. :-).**


	9. When Fear and Dream Must Collide

Days passed without Target or John catching a glimpse of Zoe. It was as if she had vanished entirely. John had even begun to worry that she had been banished after all, but reaching out with his thoughts, he could still sense the girl there. She had simply removed herself from their reach. Neither wished to question why.

As the time passed, John and Target spent many of their idle hours together. They had been partners in finding children to bring to their world before, but outside of this task they had rarely spent much time together. Now, with Zoe as a connection between them, their bond intensified.

Hidden in the mist, Zoe watched all of this develop. She had become so confused by their last meeting that she had decided time to herself was her best option. Time seemed to last forever when in reality only fleeting moments had passed.

Now, as John performed with his hoop to Target's gleeful clapping, Zoe stepped out just far enough to watch the two men. She stifled her own laughter before taking a few steps backwards. They seemed so happy together. She simply couldn't bring herself to come between them.

_But that's the problem, I suppose, _she thought to herself. _I don't know if I'm coming between them or bringing them together, and I'm not sure I like either possibility!_

Zoe pressed her nails into the palms of her hands as she walked. The physical pain was a welcome and familiar relief from the emotional turmoil in her mind. Almost instantly, familiar music overtook her as the woman in silk dropped from the sky. Zoe smiled and looked up.

Moments felt like an eternity as she watched the woman in silk fall from the sky, wrapping herself in her blood red cloak before climbing upwards only to fall once more. If Zoe focused in just the right way, she could see traces of her mother in the woman's eyes. It took all her strength to not reach up and call out to her.

Though she loved her father dearly, Zoe had always relied on her mother for reassurance and explanation. She knew her mother would understand, explain just what she was feeling. Her mother's proud voice remained in her memories but she ached to hear it again now, to hear this woman tell her that the love she felt was not diminished by dividing it so much as enhanced by sharing it. But then Zoe would look up and realize it was only a dream, that this nameless woman was not her mother and couldn't speak for her. Back to reality she would return, again to the mists, her wanderings only increasing.

It was in this perpetual state of worry that Zoe first heard a few unfamiliar notes. Panicked, she froze. Everything in this world was strange, true, but she had seen all the insanity before. The unexpected had become surprisingly expected to a certain degree. To have something entirely new was not a possibility she had considered. The haunting music continued as a wordless voice joined the strings, a pain and anguish in his pitch that made Zoe's breath catch.

Turning, she silently asked for the door to appear and give her a safe haven within which to hide. Nothing appeared.

"Show up, damnit!" she nearly screamed.

Using the same commanding frame of mind, she attempted to force the music out of her mind, failing at that as well. It was as if the world had decided to stop listening to her entirely. She had become a prisoner and guest more than an inhabitant, just as she had so many years ago. Turning towards the music, she sighed and squared her shoulders. With nothing to lose, Zoe burst into a jog, running to the music's source, hoping it would explain the strange event that was occurring.

The mists cleared after only a few paces. In front of her, Zoe saw a group she had never before seen. Several men, all of them pale in the glinting light, were climbing upon one another as they practiced their acrobatics. One man, the only male in white rather than the steel blues of the crowd, seemed to lead the group as he jumped upon the others. He nodded his head towards the others and they wordlessly created a pyramid of bodies upon which he climbed. After a moment, the pose completed, he dropped again, their bodies rearranging in another statuesque position. It was a sequence of infinite possibilities.

Mesmerized, she sat. The music continued. All she wanted was to watch.

Far from the group, John had continued to practice with his hoops. He threw the metal circle away from himself and demonstrated to Target just how to move to catch it. As he sent it out one more time, music filtered over them. John heard it and missed his catch, the hoop loudly clattering upon the ground.

"The Banquine," whispered John.

Target started up as the music passed over him as well. His eyes darted about, hoping to catch a glance of them, but the mists had thickened about their practice circle almost instantly.

_We shall lose her entirely if she misunderstands, _fussed Target. John was surprised to hear worry in his usually calm friend's voice.

"Do you think I don't know that? But what now? What can we possibly do? The mists didn't thicken for some decorative reason!"

Target let out a deep breath and walked to the hoop, picking it back up. John reached for it and hesitated as his hand dropped uselessly at his side, too frightened to continue his act.

_We can wait. We can give her the time she requires to understand the lesson. We can most certainly pray we won't lose our girl. But there is not much else we can do now._

John nodded at this truth and reached for the hoop. Blocking the music as best as he could, John continued with his trick and prayed.

**Author's Note: We're almost there, folks! Two or three more chapters then the epilogue. I've already written the epilogue, so just have to get there! :-).**


	10. Banquine

The men stopped their movements as the one in white motioned for them to assemble in front of him. He climbed on top of two of the men and nodded as one of them threw him into the air. Zoe stifled a scream of worry as the men underneath him ran farther forward and she was sure he would fall, but he simply fell back onto them feet first and was thrown into the air once more. After four such turns, he paused and allowed himself to placed back on the floor. She smiled and almost clapped them stopped as she noticed how sad he was. All the artists in this world save the Aerial Contortionist always seemed to be so enraptured with their work that it was strange to see one different. However, after a moment, is eyes lit up and she followed his gaze.

Two men, identically dressed in white, emerging from the mists. There was a beauty and fierceness within them that instantly drew the attention of all surrounding them, but Zoe also detected an undercurrent of sorrow that made her uneasy. Something was amiss in a world where grief seemed to be a rare exception.

In the distance, the girls seemed to be twins, but the differences became more apparent as they grew closer. While one had a confidence about her, the other kept her eyes down, as if afraid to catch another's eye.

"Candida," whispered the man in white to the first, and her head nodded at the acknowledgement.

She smiled and quickened her step, moving to the man and embracing him before moving onto the group. Zoe watched as she laughed and jumped into a man's arms and curled up comfortably, her eyes never leaving that of her sister, almost challenging her to join them.

The other moved a bit slower, hesitating to reach the man that had spoken her sister's name.

"Bianca," he finally muttered, somehow staring at and through the girl all at once.

She nodded as well and stopped steps away from the man. He bridged the gap between them and held her tenderly for a moment. A flare of heat came from the group and Zoe turned to see Candida staring at the two with a terrifying venom. They sensed it as well, breaking away as if nothing had occurred at all.

For a few more moments, everything remained eerily still. The music increased in tempo but something else had changed. There was an edge to it, a warning that she shook her head to push away. Determined to watch, Zoe moved a bit further back, attempting to stay as inconspicuous as possible, and they began again.

The man in white, clearly the leader of the group, turned and took Candida's hand. He effortlessly threw her into the air. She seemed so fragile that Zoe thought she would simply fall and break like a porcelain doll. Instead, he caught her by the wrists and she balanced delicately on her hands. With a twist, she had turned back to her feet and he held her aloft still before returning her to the earth. He wrapped his arms around her and she smiled, but her eyes were full of anger and directed solely at Bianca, as if challenging her to do better. She slinked away and into the arms of another man, her small smile making it clear that she hoped to make the leader jealous, but he had already forgotten her and turned to Bianca.

Without a moment's hesitation, Bianca leapt into his arms and allowed him to toss her into the air. She turned into a split and fell back down, landing so that she could wrap her legs around him and draw him close for one teasing second.

Zoe began to feel uncomfortable watching theinterchange, and clearly there was more to it than simple tricks turned in the air. Every movement one of the woman made was topped by the other, each trick designed only to take attention rather than pleasure at its completion.

For a second, Candida's smile reminded her of Target, and the thought startled her out of her confusion.

_Is that how they feel around me, like they have to fight just to have a second with me? I didn't want to cause that…_

Elsewhere, John tossed his hoop to the side, abandoning any pretext of focusing on something other than Zoe. Target watched the object fly into the mist but made no attempt to retrieve it. He was as worried if John and, though not one to voice it, keeping himself from looking panicked was taking all of his energy.

"I see things are going as badly here as they are there," intruded a woman's voice.

A rather familiar figure in green stepped out of the mist and stared at them both, her eyes glittering in amusement.

"Of all the people that I do _not_ need to laugh at me right now," began John.

She held up a hand to stop him. "No, I promise you, not to laugh, no matter how droll this little waiting game is. Just to talk, perhaps help. May I?"

He gestured tiredly and she sat between them, glaring at them both before Target shrugged and joined her, placing his head in her lap. She began to idly run her fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him. John began to pace angrily, his voice rising with each word.

"How can we just sit here and pretend that everything is alright? We could be losing her right this second. She could already be gone! She could…"

"She is close to it," whispered Handbalancer, silencing him instantly.

Target locked eyes with John and they both exchanged the same thought.

"You have seen her? How?"

"You forget," laughed Handbalancer, "Those of us from _that _world have an easier time in finding each other than any of _you_ could. Yes, I've seen her, and that's why I've come back here, to ask your permission to intervene."

_The Quidam will throw her out if she even attempts to, _worried Target.

John nodded in agreement, "I appreciate it, coquette, I do, but asking you to do something that could jeopardize your place here…"

"Well, you didn't ask," she snapped. "You've just sat here pouting like pathetic children. I'm the one asking. I understand her better than either of you can, I think." Neither of the men responded before she let out a melodramatic sigh and playfully shoved Target out of her lap. Rising, she continued, "Then don't give me permission, but I'm doing it anyway, and you might as well know that I am."

She stalked off into the mist as two sets of eyes followed her.

_Remind you of anyone, my friend?_

John laughed in acknowledgment, "Well, perhaps she is not as cautious as our girl, but she certainly is just as stubborn."

_Then I'd rather have her speak to the girl, _responded Target, _then give up all hope at all._

Slowly, John nodded, and sat beside his friend. Target was surprised to find John slipping a hand into his own but chose not to show it. All they could do was comfort each other now. Who knew what was to come?

Zoe had turned white in her rapt attention on the scene before her, just as upset as before. The act had only grown crueler as each girl attempted to better the other. The man in white noticed, of course. How could he not? But he truly seemed to care for them both, and the resemblance to her own situation was too much to handle. She clawed her nails into her hands in an attempt to steady her breathing as steps crept up behind her.

"They are sisters, you know," came a casual voice behind her.

Zoe turned to find, of all people, a vision in green that she had only glimpsed on her last journey. She attempted to return the woman's reassuring smile but found the tears in her eyes prevented even that feeble attempt.

"How do you know?" responded Zoe.

"Well, everyone knows, really. These three are a bit of a spectacle here." Handbalancer indicated the scene before her but Zoe refused to turn and look. The woman continued, "Sisters, close as could be, actually. But once they met this _idiot_, everything changed."

Recoiling at the anger in her voice, Zoe stammered, "He doesn't seem like such a horrible person."

The older woman scoffed at the younger woman's naïve question. "That's because you didn't know Bianca before. I did. She was a lover of mine. Surprising, no? Once she set eyes on Gavin, she did everything she could do get his attention. The only trouble was, she never could, not fully. Neither of them could."

As she spoke, Zoe had turned to watch them again. After a particularly loving caress, the man she now knew as Gavin released Bianca and moved away. Candida stalked behind her and choked her before forcing her down to the ground. She fell and they moved away from one another, staring at each other murderously as the men succeeded with another jump, one flying over the other perfectly.

Handbalancer sat next to Zoe as she continued, "He does love Bianca, in his way, as he loves Candida, and it's obvious both adore him. They never minded sharing him at the beginning. It was his refusal to _acknowledge_ the sharing that drove them against one another."

"And me…I'm just doing the same thing…hurting them both," sniffed Zoe, the tears finally falling down. Handbalancer pulled her close, softly shushing her into the wracking sobs moved into silent tears.

"Darling, it isn't like that at all." Handbalancer, gently took Zoe's chin and forced her to look straight at her. "They never minded it, you know. John, Target, they care for you more than you know. And you love them both, no?"

Zoe nodded as, behind them, three men flew over one another in an even more daring show than the one before. She had begun to ignore the spectacle and her waning attention drew it back into the mists without her notice.

"Silly goose," laughed Handbalancer as she moved a strand of Zoe's hair out of the way, "The lesson is that moving away will cause them to leave one another. You just can't understand that they love you enough to be together with you. Now, do you want proof?"

Zoe nodded and Handbalancer stood, drawing the younger girl up with her.

"Look," she indicated.

The mists parted enough that Zoe was able to see, as if they were right next to her, John and Target. John's head rested gently on Target's shoulder and their hands remained joined.

Handbalancer chuckled, "When you left, they were at each others throats. John was sick with jealousy over you preferring Target. Since you've returned, look at them! How can you be so stubborn as to not understand?"

Zoe smiled before giggling, the tears returning but this time tears of happiness rather than sorrow. She wiped them away and hugged the woman next to her, putting all of her gratitude into the embrace.

"I was so scared. How can I thank you?"

"Make them happy," laughed Handbalancer. "How else?"

With one last smile at her newfound friend, Zoe ran into the mists, determined to find her two loves as quickly as she could.


	11. Epilogue

_Many Years Later…_

Zoe followed John through the mist and found herself standing in front of a mundane front door. She turned to see the mist still existed behind her, but in front of her the earthly world had taken form. Already Quidam had entered the home, leading as he always did. Peeking inside gave Zoe a glimpse of a small, surprised little girl watching him walk towards the center of the room with a familiar hat.

_I wonder if I looked so silly, all those years ago,_ thought Zoe as she stifled a giggle.

She nervously smoothed the red fabric of her long, flowing gown, trying to find some practical detail to focus on rather than the emotions flooding her mind. It was her first time leaving the world that had become her home for so long that everything around her was almost too solid to be real. Having grown accustomed to the changing shapes of the Quidam's world, the certainty of this one was unsettling.

Like all others in her world, she had seen the children come and go. It was their purpose, to help them put their lives on the correct path. But though she had seen it, never had she truly experienced it. The Quidam had allowed Zoe time to grow in her relationship with John and Target and she had been thankful for that. It was difficult enough to adjust to what she had once thought impossible without asking her to perform. Now, enough time had passed that he thought her ready, and when the Quidam commanded, who was she to refuse?

Behind her, John's warm, reassuring hand squeezed her shoulder, then moved to run his fingers through her hair. She had allowed it to grow out after all this time, and he traced his fingertips down its lengths until he reached her waist. He chuckled when he saw that the headband she wore was the same blue as his own suit, though the red of the rest of it matched her other lover.

He knew just how terrifying this moment could be and was proud of her for coming to it. She had grown into a strong, confident woman over the years, excelling in ways that he had never fully believed possible. Gone was the shy girl he had met and in her place was a creature that still caused him to become breathless at each smile.

"It'll be alright, little one," whispered John in reassurance.

"You can never redo an entrance," she whispered back.

Chuckling softly, he countered, "Yes, well, then it had best be perfect each time, no? Just as perfect as you are."

She turned and playfully hit him on the shoulder before being grabbed by Target.

_Focus, darling. You can play with him later._

Zoe stuck her tongue out at Target but obeyed.

Thunder clapped around them and they all stilled. The Quidam walked back out the door and, somehow, it was as if he signaled them to begin. Zoe had begun to understand each shrug from this creature before her as if he was speaking. First of the group, John slipped through the front door and closed it behind him. Now Zoe and Target were left to themselves as the Quidam disappeared back into the mists he had conjured.

"I'm scared," she confided, a trace of the child they had all once known returning to her voice.

Target held her close, _Darling, listen to me. There is nothing we cannot do together. I promise you. The only thing you can ever be to us is perfection._

With a quick kiss to her cheek, he released her and they listened for the chime that signaled Target's entrance. It came within seconds and he opened the door, allowing her a chance to duck out of the way. He climbed within the door frame and waved at his friend. They shared a look of understanding as the familiar routine enveloped them once more.

Zoe waited for Target to leap into the room before following him, twirling and dancing with the sparklers she had conjured from the mist only moments before. They watched as the tiny blonde child looked at the hat in wonder. When it seemed that she might finally wear it, they grouped together and allowed John to give the signal. As if by magic, the world began to change again, turning into the mists that they had always known.

The girl cried out in wonder and Zoe moved forward to lead her. Her brown eyes caught a glimpse of the sparklers and she leaped just out of the girl's reach. Zoe was conscious of each set of eyes trained upon her and knew this was the moment she must get perfectly. With another two or three steps into the dance, the sparks flying from her hands, the little girl was entranced. She waited for the crowd around them to begin and danced within it. Now, all that was left was to remain just out of reach long enough to allow the hoop to roll in.

The crowd parted and she knew her cue. Zoe moved out of the way as John and Target followed, leaving the stage to the girl.

"You know, this is just the beginning of her journey. There is more work to be done," reminded John when they were all out of earshot

"Everything is a journey," smiled Zoe. "And it is a journey that can never be completed. After all, if it was not, then what led me back to you? All we can do…"

_Is direct its progress, _finished Target, _and enjoy what may come._

All three looked at one another and shared a glance. Zoe tossed what was left of the sparklers away and jumped into John's arms. He was caught by surprise and nearly dropped her but quickly recovered and held her close. Target laughed gleefully and joined the now three way embrace.

Zoe had found a home, once and for all.

**Author's Note: What a long, strange journey it's been! I want to thank everyone that has stuck with this story for all these months and, of course, my absolutely brilliant beta Katherine for all her hard work. This might be the end of this story but it's NOT the end of this universe. More stories about Zoe, Target, John, and their continuing adventures are on their way after some Kooza and La Nouba work is completed. Now PLEASE make me happy and review!**


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